Ziost's Ghosts - a post Nathema Conversation
by RevanOnasi
Summary: Following the Nathema Conspiracy, Theron returns to the Alliance. But there are things unsaid and he isn't sure if Onoja is really ready to welcome him back to the base and their bed.


Theron approached the locker at the far wall with apprehension. Nothing else in the room changed from the last time he had been here. It was clean, of course. R-vee saw it remained spotless for the couple. That wouldn't have changed in his absence. Onoja was not given to clutter a space either. Habits gained from growing up amid the austere atmosphere of the Jedi. He smiled remembering they day she'd moved into his place on Coruscant. The single, small, box that contained the entirety of the woman's belongings. A few changes of clothing. Some spare lightsaber parts and a single datapad. Theron teased her then about taking up too much space in his apartment. Taking Onoja shopping around Manarai Hills under the pretense of needing to replace some things. Encouraging her to pick out bedding and towels that he absolutely did not need, but wanted her to feel that the little flat in East Minor was her home too.

While the memory was a good one it brought sadness to the smile he sported only moments ago. Would they have more memories to make the man idly wondered. Theron wasn't given to praying for miracles, but he did now. He knew in his soul there would never never be another woman for him. If she decided to end their relationship over his betray on Umbara, Theron would spend the rest of his life still madly in love with the Jedi.

The few possessions Theron brought to Odessen were visible on the shelves in the tiny sitting area. But they were as much Onoja's belongings as his. Sentimental knickknacks from Yavin and Rishi that decorated their place back on Coruscant. He had brought them with the idea of making a new place feel more familiar. And because he had been uncertain about Onoja's memories given her lengthy stay in carbonate. Since Theron was currently staring at the knickknacks, he reasoned it was a good sign. They were still visible. Not packed in a box somewhere. Or worse, thrown away.

Things that were his, truly his - well, they were in the closet. At least they were when he left for Umbara. How hard it had been to walk away from Onoja on that train. To leave her with so many unanswered questions and a broken heart on top of it all. Theron was not confident he would still find his clothing hanging up alongside hers. The thought it might not …

A sudden wave of emotion left Theron feeling unsteady. Only barely did he suppress it. None of Ngani's teachings were useful when it came to dealing with a complicated relationship. In the wake of that emotion he realized he had been paused on the risers staring at the locker in question. For minutes possibly. Easier to just ask Onoja where they stood. She appreciated directness after all. Ultimately fear held Theron back from that. Ironic that the son of the Grand Master, and boyfriend to the Jedi Battlemaster, was being held back by fear. He just knew he wouldn't survive hearing Onoja say they were done. Even if he might deserve it.

Gripping that fear Theron forced himself up the last step. He crossed the dais to stand before the closet. There was absolutely nothing special about the piece of furniture. Except somehow it was a symbol of everything he had with Onoja. And now it was time to find out if his world was still in one piece. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Hand snatching the handle and giving it a firm tug. A second later Theron visibly sagged. Exhaling with relief the likes of which he had never known.

"After Ziost."

The voice startled Theron. Swearing as he whipped around to see who managed to sneak up on him. Not that he needed to. Only one person could ever really catch the spy off-guard.

Onoja smiled briefly to realize she'd caught him unawares. The look of warmth in her expression made his heart flutter like the first time all over again. But he kept silent, sensing the woman had more to say. He stood beside the open locker where all his clothing hung. Neat as the day he'd left, and listened to her.

"When it began to dawn on me the Sixth Line was there because of you, that you reached out to Master Suro before me … " she paused and Theron was rather shocked to see Onoja trying to control her temper. All the years he'd known her and she never struggled with emotions. It was one of the things he loved about Onoja. Had he broken it?

Fleeting seconds passed before the Jedi gathered her wits to reign in the mounting anger. Collected she pushed on. Albeit with a sternness in her expression that worried the agent.

"I tried to understand. Reasoned it was not me you betrayed. It was Director Trant. Satele. But not me. That you would never betray me. Naive, I see that now."

"You don't understand," Theron rushed. Leaving the wardrobe the man crossed the room and swept her into his arms. The crushing embrace he wanted to give on Nathema but not dared to with Lana standing between them. He hugged her tight to his chest knowing full well Onoja could get out of his grasp if she truly wanted to. That she merely tensed was a small measure of comfort. While it was familiar it was missing something too. He realized how much he missed her arms around him.

Tears clouded his eyes. The spy bent and kissed her hair. Inhaled her scent and felt his heart ache like it had that morning before Umbara. Words thick with grief Theron continued, "I wanted to protect you. Then and now. It doesn't always have to be you. Years I've watched you face impossible odds. The Emperor. Revan. A thousand battles and wars between it all. And me - I thought I accepted I would never feel the Force like Satele or Master Zho, or you. Except when I have to stay back and provide support to the woman I love instead being able to fight at her side."

Onoja was silent at that. Once more Theron kissed her hair. Then he moved a hand to cup her chin and turned her face up to his own. He could see the surprise in her expression. These frustrations kept to himself for so long Theron somehow imagined she already knew. Of course, Onoja had no way of reading his thoughts the man internally chided. Except that wasn't accurate. She loved him too much to use her Force abilities against him in such a manner.

"I will regret my decisions the rest of my life. And I will spend the rest of it trying to make it up to you. Please believe that."

"How long then until you find another reason to just - go off, do … whatever you like just because?"

The words were spoken calmly until they suddenly weren't. Onoja shoved herself from Theron's arms with frustration. He looked at her, shocked by the outburst. This was the first time in more than a decade together the woman had ever been angry with him. At all actually Theron realized with a sense of guilt. But the guilt dissipated quickly in the heat of his own anger.

"'Whatever I like'. You think I liked deceiving you? That I took some kind of - pleasure in hurting you? Because it destroyed me. Every night I've had the same nightmare since I left."

"And I have not? All I see when I sleep is you turning your back on me. Leaving Lana and me to die on Umbara."

Theron felt a flash of despair. Knowing he drove Onoja to suffer her own nightmares was just one more thing he'd have to live with. He recalled how it hurt to learn of the dark choices she had been forced to make while he was absent. Like murdering Syndic on Copero. What Onoja had done because of him would forever haunt the man. Yet Theron felt a sense of unjust anger over her accusatory tone. And it was a difficult one to restrain. Getting away from the man before he could keep back the words which followed.

"I had to protect you. If you want to know the truth - I'd do it again if it meant saving your life."

The words felt terrible on his lips. He could see the way Onoja flinched and hated himself. Still, it was the truth. Theron would make the same choices all over again if her life was at risk. Better to break her heart then watch her die.

"It doesn't have to be you. Not always. And I'm never going to stop making sure it isn't you," he added more softly. The hardness draining from his expression as he regarded the woman he loved.

"Like it or not, I am a Jedi, Theron. It is usually is me. And that … final sacrifice, I am prepared to make when the time comes."

Rage exploded within the man. He wheeled away in disgust, throwing his arms up as he tried and failed to contain his own emotions. Lashing out Theron slammed a fist into the door of the metal locker. The immediate pain only stoked the fires within. He punched the hard surface again and was rewarded with a poorly satisfying thump.

Behind him Onoja gasped. By the time he pulled his fist back for a third blow she was on him. Her hands frantically pulling at his sleeve to stop the meaningless assault. He wheeled on Onoja. Face inches from her own. Flushed red with years of anger and anxiety finally coming to the surface.

"And I'm supposed to do what if you die?"

Before she could say anything his finger was in her face. Trembling with this outpouring of anger, and close enough Onoja could have kissed it. Instead she blinked with confusion. Recoiling some for trepidation.

"Don't you dare talk about the Force. Or the Code. Fuck the Jedi. Fuck it all. Republic. Empire. The fucking Alliance too. Fuck the galaxy for all that matters," he managed through the anger which left him shaking. All that he had been denied in life, all he had lost, there was one thing Theron was determined to keep. One thing which had to be his alone and he was tired of watching everything try and tear Onoja away. "I want you, I want our life together."

His shoulders slumped. The poison in his system finally tapped, years drained within seconds leaving Theron feeling exhausted.

Reaching out Onoja took his face between her palms. Lips parting as if to speak but managing only a soft, gentle smile. Heaving another breath Theron wrapped his arms around her slender waist. He spun her until her back was pushed against the now dented locker. Holding her against it with his own body.

"Thirteen years I've watched you face impossible odds. Yeah… you were just a kid when we met - "

"I was eighteen Theron. Hardly - "

In a voice not much greater then a whisper he interrupted. "A kid. Knighted, sure. Talented? The best without a doubt."

Strained by emotions too long repressed Theron leaned his brow to Onoja's and closed his eyes. Soaking in her presence, enjoying that they were together again. "I fell in love when you walked into our operation back on Nar Shaddaa. Tried so damn hard to fight it, then tried pretending it wasn't a big deal to see you in danger all the time. That I wasn't helpless to protect you from any of it."

"You were where I needed you the most Theron," she whispered. He opened his eyes and pulled back, peering curiously at her in silent wonderment. Onoja smiled. She leaned forward and kissed him softly. Taking his now bruising hand and placing it at her chest. More specifically, her heart. "Here."

Theron wanted to find comfort in that. He understood what Onoja was implying. Being in her heart was cold comfort when he had to watch her walk into one war after another. It was obvious the man was rejecting the notion by the way her eyes darkened.

"I won't lose you. Not - not like that. Not. Dead. Not that." The words were rambling and spoken with a tremor in his voice. Hoping to stop that Theron drew in a deep breath. But his exhaled sigh was just as shaken. Lifting his hand he let the back of his fingers caress Onoja's cheek. Finding hope in the way her eyes fluttered closed if only for a brief second.

He still knew nothing of where they stood romantically, nor could muster words to ask. Worried this argument was far from over he also didn't dare speak. Instead Theron took her face between his large, coarse palms and brought her lips to his hungry mouth for a long overdue kiss.


End file.
